


Merry f***ing Christmas

by Lilys_Eyes



Category: Hellbenders (2012)
Genre: Blasphemy, Christmas Caroling, Christmas Party, Christmas Sèance, Gen, One Shot, pissing off the departed, sorcery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-16 17:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilys_Eyes/pseuds/Lilys_Eyes
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and only 'cause you're dead, don`t mean you're not invited to the party.





	Merry f***ing Christmas

They’d had an acceptable Christmas dinner, exchanged presents (everybody had received a gift previously stolen from another member of the Order, except for Eric, who’d just received a violent kick to the nuts from Macon, plus the promise to kiss it better later) and had their annual who-can-piss-out-the-most-candles-on-the-tree competition. So that could mean only one thing, Stephen smiled to himself.

„Now, I believe it’s time for some… _caroling_!”, he announced cheerfully. “ Time to let our voices ring out in jubilant blasphemy on this random December day!”

He wiped the dirty paper plates and empty plastic cups from the table with an expansive gesture, the congealed cranberry sauce and shreds of cold turkey (the only cold turkey the Augustine Interfaith Order of Hellbound Saints would ever see) mixing enthusiastically with the copious amount of ashes on the floor.

“You have _got_ to be shitting me”, Eric mumbled wincing, trying to rearrange the bag of frozen peas between his legs.

Macon made and indefinable noise of either support or protest and once more unsuccessfully attempted to dislodge the enormous red dildo from between his gaping jaws.

“Not at all, here, I´ve taken the liberty to rewrite the lyrics to a couple of festive favorites.” Stephen playfully waved a few creased sheets of paper above his head.”This way we can sin as we sing!”

Elizabeth pulled her hand out of Larry’s fly and shrugged a shoulder. “Aw, why not, might as well be kneading mashed potatoes here.”

“Hey, it’s that fuckin’ Eggnog… _really_ …look, I told you it tasted off”, Larry whined, rather sotto voce.

But Elizabeth just rolled her eyes and accepted one of the proffered sheets. Macon finally managed to dislodge the dildo with a loud plop.

“Fuck you, Larry, it did _no_ t taste off and… B it’s not Eggnog!” He pointed the sex toy accusingly at Larry. Macon had mixed the frothy, unidentified beverage himself after an old family recipe.

“Well, whatever it is, I think we can all agree, it’s pretty damn tasty,” Stephen said sagely before placing a flat piece of polished wood on the table.

“Oh, yeah,” Eric nodded dreamily and bent to fish for one of the empty cups on the floor.

Larry sighed, deciding he wasn’t going to be a Grinch today, if Stephen wanted them to sing, fine, he’d sing. He hadn’t been enjoying that cranberry sauce- sticky handjob all that much anyway.

“So what’s this then?” He craned his neck. “A Ouija board? You wanna raise Santa from the dead?”

“Hail Santa!” Eric made a devil’s horns gesture before returning to licking the remnants of mystery nog  from his cup.

Stephen primly shook his head before placing the little planchette on the board.

“I thought it would be nice if we’d serenade Angus a little. After all, we wouldn’t even be here today if it weren’t for him and considering how much he always hated caroling…Now, maybe that alone wouldn’t qualify as a sin, although it’s pretty damn cunty, but sorcery certainly does.”

For a moment the others just smiled wistfully at the mention of their deceased friend and mentor.

“It’s what he would have wanted”, Larry said.

“Yeah, it’s what he would have done for us,” Macon agreed, recalling how Angus would put his hands over his ears and cuss colorfully at even the first few notes of _All I want for Christmas is you_.

So they all put a finger on the planchette and Stephen led them all in a quick, off-key chant, demanding that old cocksucker Angus drag his ass from hell and make his presence known right about now. But at first nothing happened.

“Hm, maybe Satan won’t let him”, Elizabeth suggested softly.

That was indeed a possibility, considering just how often Angus had thwarted the Prince of Darkness. But suddenly a jolt traveled through the little piece of wood, as if somebody had grabbed it abruptly and a very characteristic smell began to waft through the room. Angus’ familiar funk of Whiskey, sweat and cheap cologne, mixed for some reason with something like…cinnamon. They all held their collective breaths as the planchette now began to briskly zip across the board.

WHTDYAWNT

“Hey, we did it!” cheered Eric. “Harry, you’re a motherfuckin’ Wizard.”

“We just wanted to wish you a very merry Christmas down in that lake of fire,” Stephen said beaming.

“Yeah, hope Satan’s not riding your saggy old ass too hard,” Macon chimed in.

For a moment the planchette remained immobile, but then a deep rumbling tremor began to travel through it, it almost felt as if it were…laughing.

YA SPPY FCKRS, it spelled eventually.

Now there were fond smiles all around.

“You’re probably not doing Christmas down there though are you, huh?” Elizabeth asked. “Or did you like, get an extra torture or something?”

GOT CKE

Larry frowned. “Cake? You got _cake_?”

“Prolly fruitcake.” Eric shivered in disgust.

 “I think he meant `got choked`,” Stephen supplied helpfully.

“Or ‘got cock’,” Macon suggested.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Wow, they`re serving cake… in _hell_?”

The planchette did not move for a long moment.

Y E A H

Now it barely crawled across the board, as if it wanted to drag out the word as long as possible.

“Well, that didn’t seem hesitant at all, did it?” Larry remarked after a while.

Stephen cleared his throat.

“Uh, don’t get me wrong, pal, but…you _are_ in hell, aren’t you?”, he asked slowly.

A tiny shiver seemed to shake the planchette, almost as if it were sighing.

ITS CMPLICATD, it spelled eventually.

“It’s _complicated_?”, Eric echoed disbelieving. “Hey, he didn’t ask to fucking _date_ you. You’re either in hell or you’re not. What the fuck’s supposed to be complicated about that?”

Elizabeth shushed him with an impatient wave of her hand.

“Just _where_ exactly are you, Angus and don`t you give us any of that `complicated` bullshit,” she said suspiciously.

All eyes were immediately on the planchette again, watching tensely as it finally spelled:

LOOK OUT WINDO

For one breathless second nobody moved, but then the entire Order of Hellbound Saints collectively leapt from their chairs and scrambled to the window. But there was nothing to be seen but the dark, deserted street, slowly disappearing under a blanket of fat snowflakes, dancing  gently under the sodium light of the streetlamps.

“That old asshole’s just fucking around with us,” Macon mumbled.

But suddenly there was a flash of light, as if lightning had just silently struck right outside their window. And then, just for a second, they saw him, standing there in the snow, looking exactly like he had done in life. Angus, his feet bare, his legs hidden by ratty jogging bottoms and his old bathrobe revealing his hairy torso, only now there was a gleaming longsword in his hand and behind his back two huge, white wings rose into the dark sky.

For a seeming eternity no one budged or even breathed, frozen in utter astonishment, until Stephen finally broke the spell by clearing his throat, sending them all silently shuffling back to their chairs as if on cue.

“Soooo…you’re an… _angel_ now?,” Elizabeth asked eventually, after another very long pause.

This time the planchette moved without their fingers.

Y E A H

“Well, shit”. She stifled a giggle.

“Man,” Larry whistled through his teeth. “That’s crazy. I mean, how did that happen? A sick fucker like you…and they didn`t make you burn for all eternity?”

“Yeah!” Macon cried, sounding downright offended. “Just how the hell did you manage to fuck that one up, Angus?”

Now the planchette almost jumped across the board.

SUK MY DIK I SAVD WORLD

Now there were a few almost contrite murmurs. Angus did have a point there, you couldn`t really expect a man to burn in hell after having saved literally the entire world from destruction, no matter how exemplary a sinner he might have been.

“Well, I suppose it’s the thought that counts, right?” Stephen asked a little too chipper, receiving only a muted, unenthusiastic  chorus of ‘ Yeah`s and ‘I guess so `s.

“So what’s with that sword shit?” Eric asked after a pause. “You too good for your old blade now?”

“You`re not a… _guardian_ angel?”, Stephen prodded somewhat carefully, he couldn’t really think of any other reason for the sword, unless of course God had sent Angus to kill them all for their sins.

Again the planchette seemed to sigh.

Y E A H

“Uh, they didn’t go and make _you_ the guardian fucking angel of the Augustine Interfaith Order of Hellbound Saints by any chance, did they?” Larry asked, the corners of his mouth beginning to twitch.

I GESS

Now the planchette somehow seemed to spell in a mere mumble.

There was another second of silence, followed immediately by roaring laughter. That vile old cocksucking bastard son of a bitch, Angus McGregor, the guardian angel of the Hellbound Saints, why, you just couldn’t make it up. Oh, they would make sure he’d have plenty of work for a long, long time to come. And so they treated their now angelic friend to a rousing rendition of _Smack the Balls_ , steadfastly ignoring the planchette’ s angry barrage of NOs and STFUs . After all, ignoring your guardian angel _had_ to count as a sin.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, Angus, I know you wanted to go to hell, but it`s your own fault for being so damn likeable.


End file.
